


Perks (or lack of it) of being a human

by lightoffaith



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Human Crowley, Hurt Crowley, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 10:19:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5704096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightoffaith/pseuds/lightoffaith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set right after the trials. The trials worked, Sam is alive, Crowley not so. Here comes the consequences of closing down the gates of hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey people! This is my first work ever and I'm very unsure about it. Let me know if you like it or not. I'll try to get more of the story down and it'd be great to have some idea of how my story is. Don't hesitate to comment and stuff! Peace!

His face was sore. He could feel the punches Abaddon landed on him. Feel the ache of sitting for too damn long. His neck was decorated with needle marks. Dry tear tracks line his cheeks. Crowley blinked a few times quite unsure of what had happened. He couldn't remember. A sound, a moan? Came from somewhere to the left. He turned to find Sam lying down on the floor clutching his arm.

"Moose?" , a confused Crowley asked. He tried getting up but he was bounded to the chair.   
What in the world is happening? His brain was fuzzy, cloudy, swirling with way too many memories. Memories of---  
It came to him. Everything he'd ever done from centuries ago until now. They were horrible. Merciless. Reckless. Inhumane...  
Fresh tears fell from his eyes. He doubled over. It felt wrong. No demon would be feeling this what more the king of hell? Realization hit him hard.  
It must have worked. Damn winchesters managed to shut down hell...which means I'm...  
"Human..."  
It was too much to handle...an overdose of emotions. Feelings. He began swimming in those memories. Crowley began muttering under his breath, mostly a string of repeated 'no's, while staring into space, his eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Ughh...",Sam grumbled while rubbing his eyes with his palms. He felt so weak. He looked at his glowing forearm, slowly returning to normal. It felt like it was buzzing with so much energy. Sam lifted himself of the floor into a sitting position and realized he had forgotten about Crowley. I guess I shut down hell. Damn I didn't think that would have worked. He turned around looking for Crowley and found him. He seemed pretty much catatonic save for the tears that are flowing. Sam couldn't help but feel sorry for the demon...ex demon. He looked...pathetic. He half walked half crawled towards the man who's still bounded to the chair. All the while calling out his name to try and get his attention but Crowley did not seem to be in the slightest bit aware of his surroundings.  
"CROWLEY!" Sam finally shouted but garnered no response from the recently cured demon. He held onto the chair to steady himself and found that Crowley seemed out of it. First a hand on his shoulder, then Sam shook him harder and harder and snapped his fingers in front of Crowley's face. Nothing.

"Sam! Don't continue with the tri-", Dean stumbled into the church but stopped his yelling when he saw that his brother was fine.  
"Son of a bitch...it worked? Is he cured?", Dean asked Sam though he already knew the answer.  
"Yeah it worked, I think he's cured but he's...been this way since then, hasn't said a single word",  
Sam replied monotonously.  
As if on cue, Crowley whispered, "Sam?", he sounded really small and vulnerable. Sam, who seemed more concerned about Crowley than his brother bent down so he was eye to eye with Crowley.  
"Crowley...are you ok?", a seemingly stupid question to ask now because he definitely did not look or sound ok and he even dropped the nickname. He always calls me moose...

Crowley considered the question, but the moment he did he regretted it. The overwhelming wave of emotions took over him and those gory images he tried so hard to quell came back and attacked his newfound conscience. It came back harder and had a different effect on Crowley this time. His head felt like it was splitting into two slowly.  
Sam and Dean waited a good ten seconds before Crowley suddenly arched his back, eyes shut and whimpering. Blood started oozing out his nose and ears. The pressure in his head was way too much. Sam fumbled for the key to the chains and freed Crowley, who immediately raised both hands to his head, as if that would ease the pain. He fell forward to his knees and had both hands on his head as if to prevent it from falling apart. At this point, Sam and Dean were unsure of what to do, both of them held onto each of Crowley's arms in an attempt to steady him.  
"What the hell is wrong with him?", Dean asked but before Sam could answer, the attack seemed to have stopped and Crowley just collapsed so they lowered him to the ground slowly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go back to the bunker.

The lines of pain previously on Crowley's face were gone. But slight tremors were running up and down his spine.   
Sam and Dean stood still for a full minute trying to comprehend the situation before Sam broke the silence, suggesting they go back to the bunker.

"What do we do with him?", Dean asked.  
"I don't know. We can't just leave him here. He's our responsibility now", Sam asked before a bout of dizziness made him sway on his feet.  
"Hey, you alright? Come on you go to the car. I can manage him."

Dean had no trouble lifting Crowley up into a fireman's carry though he did feel a little weird. Crowley is the king of hell. Well, not anymore. 8 hours ago, Dean wouldn't have imagined himself shaking the demon's hand what more taking care of him? Dean gripped Crowley's hand to have better balance which he could feel was burning up real quick. He had no doubt that they would be dealing with a fever-addled Crowley soon. He honestly had no idea what to expect. By the time Dean reached the car, Sam was sound asleep in the front seat so he had to open the back door to deposit Crowley himself. Adjusting the rearview mirror, he made sure that he could see Crowley who was sitting, slumped against the window behind Sam. Taking a deep breath, he started the car and backed out of the church's driveway.

It was about 10 minutes into the drive before Sam stirred and woke up to see where they were. He didn't say anything because a wave of nausea hit him and made him shut his eyes and try to go back to the peaceful nap he just had. Dean was too focused on the road and his thoughts to notice Sam waking up. The main issue now being what they're gonna do with Crowley. He definitely does not seem to be in a state to be left alone without care. The remainder of the drive occurred in silence.

Sam woke up just as Dean turned into the bunker's driveway. He had the strangest dream but decided against bringing it up now cos he needed time to piece it together.

"I'll help you carry him in", Sam said before stepping out of the car and having a good stretch.  
Crowley was still out when Sam brought him out of the car and hooked Crowley's arm over his shoulder. Dean did the same with the other arm and both of them started walking, dragging the ex-demon to the front door of the bunker. They were immediately greeted by Kevin, who looked like he could use 3 days of sleep and a hug if the bags under his eyes weren't indicative enough of the exhaustion he's been through, his bloodshot eyes definitely did. He was pretty much in a state of panic and when his eyes landed on Crowley's prone form, he looked as though someone had taken a yo mama joke way too far. Dean saw the look in his eyes and before Kevin started asking questions, Dean held his free hand and said,"whoa Kevin wait a minute, let us explain."

"W-what is he doing here?" To say Kevin looked shocked would be an understatement.  
Sam told Kevin the whole story after he and Dean laid Crowley down on a sofa. Kevin did not seem convinced. He pulled out his flask of holy water and hastily splashed an unnecessary amount of it on the demon. Which immediately rendered Crowley out of the numbing unconsciousness. Dean pulled Kevin back as all three of them had their eyes on Crowley, unsure of what will happen next. Crowley was soaked, well at least his shirt was. He was staring back at Kevin, words starting to form on his lips. The next three words Kevin heard was unexpected to him.

"Kevin? I'm s-sorry...", more a whisper than anything else, Crowley started muttering his apologies again and again. His eyes were open but it seemed as though he was just staring into a void. Completely ignoring the presence of the other people around him. He was getting louder and a bit more fidgety. His hands started pulling his hair as he shouted "I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY!" With his head bowed down and tears streaming freely from his eyes, this was not a sight Kevin would ever imagine seeing of the king of hell and he was starting to feel bad for what he did. The shouts didn't die down and blood was starting to come out of his nose. He kept shouting as if he was trying to let everyone in the whole world know. Maybe he was. Sam took quick action and tried to prevent him from hurting himself but the moment he touched Crowley, he regretted it as his head felt like it exploded. Flashes of Kevin's mom locked up in a cell somewhere appeared and she was crying. For Kevin. But what he felt in that moment was a kind of satisfaction but before he could question himself, Crowley grabbed a fistful of Sam's shirt and whispered "help me", before his eyes rolled back into his sockets and he slumped back onto the sofa.

"What the hell just happened?", Sam wondered out loud. He felt something warm right below his nose and realised it was blood. He wiped his nose and looked at Crowley who seemed to have it worse than him. There was way more blood and some came from his ears. He got up slowly, turning around to see Dean and Kevin staring blankly at him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas comes into the picture to help Crowley.

————————back to when Cas went back to heaven after leaving Dean at the Church————————  
The first thing he saw immediately put his senses on high alert. Naomi. Lying face down in a pool of her own blood on her usually clean desk. Now the desk is a mess and Naomi’s eye probe was stuck, sharp end in the back of her head.

What Naomi said about Metatron must be true then. Things are starting to make sense. Why Kevin could not find any of the first 2 trials that the scribe asked him to perform. Whatever Naomi had said about the purpose of angels, it all seemed a little of with the way Metatron has been behaving.

With his senses on high alert, he somehow managed to react before Metatron could fully unleash his power and swung his angel blade as fast as he could in the general direction of where Metatron angel-teleported to. Time was moving about 3 times slower and he was able to get a good swipe across Metatron’s right upper arm. Can was thrown backwards but he was not held by Metatron’s powers because to his relief, angel blades worked just fine on the scribe of God, unlike the holy oil, and he was distracted by the pain that the blade caused on his arm which had started to bleed rather profusely.  
Unfortunately, an angel of that level still had higher rates of healing compared to ordinary angels. So milliseconds before Cas would stab him with the angel blade, he took flight and teleported to one of his safe havens on Earth, a library in a gigantic abandoned cabin somewhere in Greenland.

Cas lunged forward, his blade stabbing nothing but the thin, cold air of Naomi’s office. He just realised how heavy his breathing was and took a moment to calm down. He looked at the mess around him with a tinge of guilt. He can’t help but think this was all his fault. Even though he was manipulated by Metatron who sold the idea that he could help Cas make things ‘right’ again. And that’s all Cas really wanted.  
He closed Naomi’s eyes and flew to the church to look for Dean hoping that either Sam stopped the 8th injection, or Naomi was wrong about the outcome of completing the third trial.

“Dean? Sam?” Cas called after finding himself alone in the middle of the church next to a fallen chair where he assumed was where Crowley had been sitting. Confirming that no one was there, he then went straight for the bunker.

——————back to where Crowley just passed out and Dean and Kevin are staring at Sam——————

“Cas??” Dean was the first one to say anything after the very sudden sequence of events. Kevin was still at a loss for words and Sam seemed to be a bit disoriented from the sudden wave of pain that seemed to have connected him and Crowley.

“Sam. I’m glad that you are not…harmed.” He said that in a monotonous tone that didn’t seem to reflect the immense relief he was actually feeling that Sam is still alive. Glancing at the sofa, his head tilted and Dean started to explain what happened.

“…and then his eyes just rolled back and he collapsed,” Dean finished telling Cas what happened and all the while the angel kept nodding and looking at Crowley’s prone form.

“So now he’s human.” Cas stated blankly. He walked over to where Crowley was and held and hand hovering above Crowley’s forehead. He gathered himself, and took a deep breath before his face turned into one of complete focus, his eyes closed, eyebrows knit together and lips pursed tight. A white glow started emanating from the gap between his hand and Crowley’s forehead and the moment Cas touched Crowley, the glow filled the entire room, blinding Sam, Dean and Kevin momentarily in the process. As the light died down, the three saw that Crowley’s eyes were wide open but only the white of his eyes could be seen. His hands were balled into fists at his side. His whole body was violently shivering. Cas, still deep in concentration, started to murmur. No one could make anything out of it but it looks like the angel is trying very hard to keep doing whatever he was doing to Crowley. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and you could see tiny shivers running down his spine.

Cas saw everything. Memories from his human days, the time he spent on the rack being tortured, the time he spent torturing others on the rack and a few images of his interactions with the Winchesters. Cas felt everything. Mainly the intensity of the emotions arising from the memories. He could not imagine how the human mind would have handled this flood of emotions. He did the best that he could, to transfer most of what Crowley was feeling into storage room in the mind palace in his head. This angelic ability is probably very much akin to transferring things from your computer into a gazillion terabyte cloud storage. It bears no weight to the angel but only the angel initiating the transfer is able to access it. But the process was physically and mentally draining on both parties so Cas had to hurry before further damage could be inflicted on any of them. This transfer was proving more difficult than expected probably due to the state of entropy in Crowley’s mind. The transfer suddenly spiked in terms of speed which was unexpected to Cas and caused him to release his hand from Crowley, ending it. The moment the white glow completely died, Crowley’s tensed and arched body finally relaxed. Dean was immediately by the angel’s side who was doubled over and panting. 

“I just restored his memory but there might be complications because I didn’t complete the whole process. He should be conscious in 2 days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the late update. I originally wanted to post a chapter every weekend but looking at how fucked I am for this semester, the updates may come in fortnightly instead.  
> I do appreciate you guys dropping by and reading this story (which I have no direction for yet) but I hope you'll enjoy it. Thanks also to everyone who's commented and given this a kudos.  
> Peace!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Here's the fourth chapter. I'm currently experiencing a writer's block (send help) and it was so hard to figure out what to do with the story. I shall not keep your hopes up by promising a weekly update or anything but I will let you know that I will work on this full force once my paper on the 5th of May is over and done with. I don't intend on ending this story without Crowley joining in on one of their hunts or something. God of writers please give me directionssss...  
> Thanks for those who commented and for reading this story! Note that I haven't proof read the chapters so sorry if you see any mistakes...Enjoy!
> 
> Notes:   
> Crowley's vessel was a literary agent from New York  
> Italicised lines are thoughts

Erasing Crowley's memory (most of it) took a high toll on Castiel's strength. The angel tried to conserve his angel powers and minimised teleportation. He stuck around with the Winchesters and a recovering ex demon at the men of letters bunker. Sam and Dean were making sandwiches for themselves in the kitchen when Cas walked in. He grabbed a few slices of bread and all the other ingredients for a sandwich. Dean looked at him with one eyebrow raised. 

Cas, noticing that he was being stared at, explained "No, angels don't get hungry. But it is quite a pleasant experience". Cas left out his real reason for eating. He was feeling miserable and exhausted and eating food was therapeutic for him. Dean just shrugged and continued with his triple deck of ham and cheese goodness. 

"So what's gonna happen to Crowley? Will he remember anything?", Dean asked, still chewing on his sandwich. 

Cas thought about it real hard before finally admitting that he doesn't know what will happen to him. Firstly, he has never really erased a memory as extensive as Crowley's and secondly, something happened that stopped him from completing the transfer. For all they know, Crowley could still have some memories of being in hell or being a human or a mixture of both. There is no way to tell but to wait.

Sam kneeled down next to Crowley. Studying him. His face seemed more calm, the lines of tension have disappeared. Dried blood coated some parts of his face which also had cuts from the scuffle with Abaddon at the church. His expensive black suit was pretty much still in tact save for some tears where his knees were after falling onto the rough church floor. His chest rising and falling, almost in tune with Sam’s own breathing. He thought about how Crowley now had to breathe to survive when before, it was merely a bypass behaviour of occupying a human vessel. After a minute Sam got up to grab the first aid kit. He took a little longer looking for it and when he came back, Crowley was still in the same position. Being unconscious makes cleaning him up a much easier process. Taking the alcohol swabs, Sam started wiping off the blood from the cuts, his nose and ears, thanking his lucky stars that there weren’t any cuts too deep that required stitches. He took out the the small clinical thermometer present in the bag and stuck it under Crowley’s tongue, watching as the red liquid rose steadily to above a 100 degrees. He definitely has a fever and from the looks of it, slightly dehydrated with his chapped lips and sunken eyes. Breathing out slowly, Sam packed the first aid kit and went to look for some dry clothes Crowley could wear.

As Sam walked out of the room, Castiel came in with Dean. He walked to the sofa where Crowley was lying on and stood there. He just stood there and watched him. Almost like how Sam was looking at Crowley but Cas was doing something else. He wanted to know Crowley’s state of mind but he just couldn’t sense anything for sure. It was like scanning the radio but getting only the white noise of static in return. Dean started cleaning up the surrounding area, picking up anything that could have been misplaced. Just doing anything to fill in the time.

Sam came back into the living room with a red and black checkered lumberjack shirt and black jeans. The idea of Crowley walking around looking like one of them tickled his mind. He just couldn’t imagine the suave demon wearing anything but his expensive black tailored suit accompanied by a silk tie and shiny shoes. Just as he was nearing Crowley, he noticed that the ex-demon now had a frown on his face. He was shivering and started breaking a sweat. If he was waking up now then he must be off Cas’s schedule. He should only be waking up in about 12 hours. Everyone started to notice it too and before either one of them could say anything, Crowley sat bolt upright on the sofa, panting and eyes searching the room. He didn’t seem aware of the people standing in front of him.

Highlands…a shady old fashioned pub…donkeys wheeling carts. *A flash*. A man with a gruff beard shooting a shotgun…Two very tall young men…a man in a brown trench coat…*A flash*. Publisher’s office in New York…*A flash*. Fire…screaming…blades of different shapes and sizes…blood…a man with fully black eyes…

Flashing images came and left Crowley’s mind. All in random sequences of the past events of the ex-demon’s and the vessel’s life. He woke up hearing a woman’s screams of pain, as if she was going through torture. He was looking around. Looking for the woman he thought he heard but saw blurry images instead. Her voice is now fading away and things were coming into focus. He then realised that he was sitting on an old sofa and he was sweating and shivering at the same time. He tried to calm himself down. Then he saw the 3 people standing around him. Looking at him, worried. Why do they look so familiar?

“Who are you?”, Crowley asked, surprising himself when he heard the sound of his own voice.  
“I’m Sam, this is Dean and Cas. Can you tell me your name?”, Sam answered in a gentle and encouraging way.  
Sam, Dean, Cas. Why do those names sound so familiar? My name…What’s my name? Fer..Crow…Why can’t I remember my name???  
“Um…I can’t seem to recall my name,” Crowley looked back at them, slightly confused.  
“That’s ok… Your name is Crowley, you were…involved in a traumatic incident and you may have lost some of your memory. But don’t worry you’ll be back to normal soon. You just need some rest,” Cas said, to which Crowley just nodded slowly. Still unsure of what’s happening.   
“Why don’t you go change your clothes? Here’s a dry shirt and pants. The bathroom is the third door on the left down the hall.”  
He got up slowly and shakily. Took the clothes and went to the bathroom.  
 Once, out of earshot, the three of them started discussing the situation.

“Now that I know his state of mind, I know what to do. I’ll just put back his memory of being a demon before he took the injections. Then we’ll explain to him that he’s not a demon anymore.”

“What if that doesn’t work? Wouldn’t that just bring us back to square one?”, Sam asked.

“We’ll just have to wait and see. But that would make things easier to explain since he would at least know who he is. Demon-Crowley probably will not be happy learning that he is no longer a demon but at least this way, we won’t have to take care of a catatonic mess of a human.


End file.
